Friday, December 13, 2013

SHORTHAND

Bones cracky
In carcass muddy
Force me, to
Re-learn shorthand

The thrown away
Pieces of waste papers
In dustbin near
Pulls me inside

I plunge and put
The torn pages
To my sticky fingers
In a round of my write

So less the pages
So less the pangs
Gather story
To my book of life

My book will
Not be heavy
Of now, and
The pages
Once flipped
Will surely
Re-wind back

With the meaning
Fuller to an extent
The book will come
To an eternal end!

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